Electrical Impulses
by Coulrophiliana
Summary: This was not something he could allow himself to grow accustomed to. The girl was a means to an end. Nothing more. Warning: weird (but gentle) robo-BDSM and softcore smut.
In theory, she was perfect. A talented and promising dancer who, as a result of a tragic accident ending in a very _human_ demise, became entirely machine was just the thing Viktor needed to study and somehow improve upon in order to further his progress in the Glorious Evolution. With some necessary but minor improvements, the remaining human weaknesses of Orianna Reveck could be purged from her artificial mind and body.

In practice, she was a disappointment. Viktor had initially been quite envious of the incredible techmaturgy used to recreate the girl. The thing that kept her "alive" (so to speak)—the Infinity Gear—was a wonder of engineering all on its own. Corin Reveck, the creator of the clockwork girl and the father of the muse upon which she was based, was revered as a genius and denounced as a madman when his project was discovered. His madness gave way to his brilliance when the new Orianna was completed. Not long after the girl's completion came the Ball, the girl's intended protector.

Given his line of work and propensity for all things mechanical, Viktor was most intrigued in both the girl and her pet.

The Infinity Gear had given the girl a level of independence and autonomy that had surprised the people of both Piltover and Zaun. She retained all of Orianna's memories and understood things like emotion and socialization, although she could never experience them in the way only humans could. The clockwork silhouette seemed to emulate Orianna's mannerisms often, comforting Corin Reveck with the familiarity of his late daughter.

But she was not Orianna.

Although Viktor had never come in close contact with the girl personally, he often heard things about how the girl was impressive, but she was not like Blitzcrank. That particular robot, one of Viktor's creations (although a certain rival had stolen the credit), glowed with a humanity never before seen from an automaton. Orianna tried to fit in and act human, but she was… _off_ , somehow. It was even more off-putting to the people of Zaun when Orianna and her father would appear on regular excursions. Her father would come to study, although many of the scientists at the college would whisper about how unhinged he was. Some would say he was more unhinged than Viktor himself, acting as if Viktor didn't know of their meaningless opinions.

Orianna and the Ball made quick friends with Blitzcrank, finding solace in the fact that they were not alone. Sentient hextech constructs were rare, to say the least. Viktor did not know much about their friendship or the girl's behavior in-person, but he was not inclined to ask. He had more important things to worry about than the "life" of the curious Piltovian girl.

Unless, of course, she came to him.

Well, she had not come to him specifically. Corin had, as he had said, been in Zaun looking for help with Orianna and the Ball, but only two people in the municipality had the knowledge to give him the help he needed, so the people of Zaun had told him.

Reveck had admitted that he had first gone to Professor Stanwick's office at the academy, although he had been turned away before he even had a chance to mention Orianna or anything he needed. Viktor himself had only been slightly more accommodating, if only because Viktor's acolytes had been smart enough to inform him about the clockwork girl that was with his visitor.

"It's… not that there's anything _wrong_ with Orianna," Reveck said, sounding more like he was convincing himself than Viktor. He was a shell of a man, pale and shaky with a slight hunch in his back from so many hours spent working. His hair, yellow anyway, was spotted with grey. The thick lenses he wore over his eyes served as a constant reminder of his human weaknesses. "I just have to leave for Demacia for… a few weeks, give or take, and I'm afraid I might be too busy to keep an eye on her."

"Is she not autonomous?" Viktor asked, already growing bored with the human's request. He wasn't looking forward to playing babysitter to the female construct, despite how much he wanted to evaluate the way she was put together.

"She is! The Ball can protect her—that's not the problem. The problem is that lately she's been acting… sometimes different, in a way. Trying to pick herself apart, literally. The Ball won't stop her from doing it, but she's taking pieces off and I need someone who has the time to be able to put her back together again. She's very low maintenance until she starts doing this, and I don't have time to fix this, uh… minor defect before I leave."

Viktor watched the man, despising the desperate look on his face. Orianna wanted to be human, tried so hard to emulate them. Although the thought of a machine who had been created so perfectly wanted to sully its beauty by being _human_ disgusted him, the techmaturgy was too valuable to pass up.

Reveck seemed to take Viktor's silence as a cue to go on. "I can pay you as much as you want—"

"Keep your money," Viktor interrupted. The human nodded, shuddering back. "I will take the girl into my care. Where is she now?"

After looking around, as though he thought Orianna had been right behind him, Reveck answered, "She wandered off after arriving in Zaun. She can take care of herself, but she's… probably with that steam golem she's so fond of. Blitzcrank, if I remember right."

That made sense. "I see. I will seek her out when I can."

Corin nodded. "I've already informed Orianna of what's going on. I have to leave as soon as I can but… thank you so much for what you're doing. She really is no trouble, so long as she can stay in one piece although she's been trying to pick herself apart. I should be back in no more than a month. Less, if all goes well."

"I understand. Farewell," Viktor answered, the mechanical hand that rose from his shoulder blade waving dismissively so his acolytes would come and usher the mad scientist out of the lab.

Viktor ignored the presence of one particular acolyte, Decker, who crept behind him. Decker was a mediocre but loyal follower; he had been one of the first to submit to the ideals of the Glorious Evolution. He had been treated with several mechanical parts that replaced the weak ones before them. "What are your plans? You aren't really expecting to babysit the girl, are you?"

"This is a step forward for us, Decker. That girl may hold secrets valuable to our Glorious Evolution. And if she is as autonomous as they say, perhaps she could be a useful ally to us."

"Would you like me to seek her out and bring her to you?"

Viktor pondered on this for only a moment. "No. I will find her myself."

He busied himself with his work, dismissively waving off anyone that tried to interrupt him with questions about meaningless things like the clockwork girl or additional augments they had been designing. That was becoming a serious problem: he wanted men who had the nerve and brains to create those augments they had been dreaming about and install them without asking his permission, as if he was a schoolteacher and they had come to gloat about their projects, waiting for him to pat their heads and tell them they did a good job. This was not his way.

Specifically leaving enough work to be done that he could reasonably ignore the girl, Viktor set off on his way a few hours later. He knew where Blitzcrank tended to dwell; the Academy was a place he frequented, although he did have a… _shanty_ he did call home. Viktor loathed the Academy, so he went to Blitzcrank's dwelling first.

 _Loathing._ What a disgustingly human emotion. Complete emotional purge was proving to be more difficult than initially anticipated.

He ignored the human passersby that would stop and scramble to get out of his way so they would not be singled out by him. Humans yielding to machines… The way it was meant to be. The people of Zaun were not fond of him, but they understood the importance of having a mind like his on their side. It was always better to be feared _and_ respected.

It was always easy to tell when Blitzcrank was home. He always lit lamps everywhere in his home, to the point of blinding for those whose eyes could not process light the way a machine's could. The windows, asymmetrical but scattered around the metal shack, glowed brightly. He saw, for a moment, Blitzcrank and the girl through the window.

It might have been comical if it hadn't been so… bothersome.

Blitzcrank, the giant steam golem, was attempting desperately reattach a scrap of metal that had gone missing from the side of the girl's torso, where her ribcage might have been. The girl didn't protest, but she certainly wasn't being helpful. The eye protruding from the Ball accompanying the girl looked straight at him. Soon after, Orianna did as well.

Viktor went to the door, which was large and appropriately golem-shaped. "Blitzcrank," he stated loudly as his third arm clanged noisily against the wooden door of the shack.

"THERE WAS AN ACCIDENT."

The door creaked open as Blitzcrank's arm retracted back to him, one still occupied with valiant but hopeless attempts to keep the girl whole.

The girl stared at him. "I did it on purpose. There was no accident. I'm sorry he lied. Are you Viktor?" There was something fascinating about the way she moved, her eyes trained on him while the rest of her body moved separately.

"Yes. You have heard that your father has put you in my care?"

Her head went up and down in a nod. The Ball chittered next to her, and she angled her body to place a hand atop it. The Ball's eye seemed more trained on him than Orianna's eyes.

Viktor walked forward, holding a hand out to Blitzcrank. His large, clumsy hand held out the scrap of Orianna for Viktor to take.

Watching the techmaturgical girl, he took up the piece of metal, about as long as his forearm and slightly curved to contour to the female figure's waist and back. The mechanical hand that hovered above his shoulder beckoned the girl. She came forward, the sound of her gears grinding and Blitzcrank exuding steam from some unseen exhaust the only sounds. They were noisy machines, Viktor thought. Noisy, but functional.

She turned her back to him so he could see the empty hole on her; it was bigger than he had expected. It was where her ribcage would be, if she was human. Since she was not, however, it was under the large turnkey on her back.

Curiously, there were some metal prongs inside that looked quite a bit like a ribcage, and many small disks lined up to look like a spine. In fact, everything inside of her was curiously… _alive_ , as though Reveck had built her purposefully to be a metal duplicate of a human, inside and out. He took the metal piece from the mechanical hand so he could use it to shine a light from its palm into her metal chassis. There were gears inside, covered only in a thin sheen of grease—she was impeccably clean on the inside.

She had an unbeating bronze heart and a set of lungs, as far as he could see. He wondered what purpose they served, if any, and made a note to check later.

"Is there something wrong?" Orianna asked, her head snapping to one side curiously. The Ball chittered next to her, its eye focused on Viktor apprehensively.

He ignored the Ball, which would occasionally move about to get a look at him from the other side. "Other than the gaping hole you've left in your frame, no," he answered darkly. She didn't respond, and the impassive facial expression didn't budge—although that was probably because it had very few moving parts.

"Oh."

Viktor would need to solder the part back onto her—which made it a wonder that she was able to peel it off in the first place. Maybe she had some control over her inner functions, as well. Another note to ask her how much control she had over her chassis.

"Come, girl."

"Goodbye, Blitzcrank. Maybe I can come visit again soon." The Ball whirred again, following her as if it was autonomous as she turned the key on her back, following Viktor out.

* * *

"What is the point of tearing yourself apart, girl?" Viktor demanded of her as he finished welding her metal skin back onto her ribcage. He had gotten a good look at the inside of her—at least, as good as he was going to be able to get for now, without taking the girl further apart—and figured that it was quite similar to that of a human's insides. After welding the metal back onto her, he had commanded that she stay put.

"I want to understand myself," she answered simply, her head tilting to one side as if he had just asked her what color the sky was. "And I want to see what makes the ticking go on."

"Gears," Viktor responded shortly. "You are made up of simpler machines working together."

Orianna stared for a moment. Though her gaze was blank her slow blink indicated that she was processing this information. "I see," she stated. She was quiet for another moment before she looked back up at him. "And you? What are you made up of?"

She seemed concerned that he was not entirely machine. He still had organic parts that he hadn't figured out how to work out of his system while maintaining some level of consciousness. "That is none of your business." His tone was sharper than he meant it to be.

"Understood," she responded, raising one arm idly to beckon the Ball. He watched it warily, feeling strangely... tense? Tension was a human thing, a thing that happened when one spent too long working with too few breaks.

Unfortunately, Viktor's only pleasure was in his work. With that being the case, what was there to do to relieve tension? Nobly, he decided to ignore the tension and ignore the girl and get back to work. She spoke up quickly.

"Can I watch you work?"

"If you stay quiet," he answered, although her silence proved to be insignificant regarding the distraction she posed. She didn't speak at all, but she had a lot of... _ambient_ noise that drew his attention to her now and again, constant whirring and chittering of the Ball and the gears inside her, the sound of metal sliding against metal whenever she would turn her head slightly to look at the Ball or to get a better look at what he was working on.

Every time she made noise, he felt compelled to look at her. And every time he looked at her, he felt _tense_. He felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest, but he chose to ignore it and instead speak to her. "What do you know of being human that makes it so... appealing?"

"I read books when my father leaves. Humans can feel fear or love or fear and love at the same time. I want to do that, too."

"Do you not experience emotion?"

Her head cocked to one side, as if she was looking away sadly. With so little facial movement, she sure managed to express herself quite well. "I do. But my father tells me when he is upset that it is not the same. I want it to be the same."

Viktor wanted to give her the diatribe most of his acolytes received about how emotion was weakness and not actively staving it off made a person too human to be worth his time. Strangely he got the impression that Orianna wouldn't care much if he thought poorly of her.

"I read a lot of romance literature," Orianna admitted when Viktor didn't respond for too long. "I want to fall in love and get married and have children."

Really, there was only one absolute impossibility in her wildest dream. "You cannot bear children, girl. You lack the human parts."

Curiously, she blinked at him. An eye on a stalk rose from the Ball and looked around, landing a mechanical stare at Viktor, as if daring him to continue to deny her fantasy. "In those books, when two people fall in love, they always attempt to reproduce with one another, even if they hinder their own progress. I find it strange, but I should try, too."

Did she not understand the human use of sex for pleasure? The human vice of lust was not one Viktor often fell prey to anymore. Maybe sometimes when he was much younger, but not now. He watched her warily, and she watched right back, finding no flaw in what she had said.

"You seem to understand less than you believe, girl," Viktor finally stated firmly, after watching her closely and deciding that she was merely ill-informed.

"It seems so," she agreed, and was quiet for a short while. Viktor got back to work and she sat and watched him, reaching out every now and again to touch the Ball, seemingly for comfort. "Do you feel?"

"Emotion is a human weakness."

"It find it lovely. But strange, much like reproducing without intent to produce children." The Ball whirred in what sounded like agreement. Viktor didn't answer her again, deciding his work took too much precedence over the girl's mindless chatter for him to give her much attention. He turned around to work, facing away from her. Unfortunately, her silence didn't last very long. "Why _do_ they do that?"

Viktor didn't turn around to answer her. "Because they are vulgar creatures that cannot survive lives without pleasure."

"Pleasure? Is that the purpose? It strikes me as a chore in the books. It seems very laborious, and active. Maybe not like a chore, but like an exercise."

"You are... not wrong. It is quite like that, but humans succumb to the chemicals that make them feel physical pleasure." He reached out and took hold of the scepter he usually carried with him, the end of which produced electrical impulses that could burn a human if they were to touch it with their bare hands.

He turned it over and tapped Orianna with it, just a gentle brush right between her breasts. The eye raised from the Ball again but she put a hand on it to sooth it, releasing a whimper-like sound that Viktor had not known she was able to produce. Upon hearing that sound, some of the irritating tension inside him eased up just a bit.

"Is that what it feels like?" she asked, looking at the end of the staff and then up at him.

Viktor put the staff back down where it had been. "It is a close approximation. As close as you will ever be able to feel."

"Are you still able to feel that way?"

"That is none of your business, girl," he snapped. Why was it his job to teach the clockwork girl about the depravity of humans? More importantly, why should he care whether or not she knew? The fact that she was asking questions about _him_ proved that he had already told her more than she needed to know, and Reveck would likely pester him about it if she started echoing the information he had passed along to her. "Run along, and keep yourself in one piece."

* * *

It was nearly two weeks before Orianna came to him again, this time missing a piece on her lower back, beneath the key that she constantly turned, to keep the Infinity Gear inside operating. She had mostly left him alone for a long while, disappearing during the day to visit Blitzcrank and returning at night to power down for a few hours in simulated but unnecessary sleep.

Whenever he saw her, only occasionally passing by her temporary quarters at night, he could feel that tension force its way back into his chest. But he would never give in and see how far he would go to ease it. Tension was something he could tolerate.

It was just when she returned from Blitzcrank's home that she came slinking to him, interrupting his work, with the part cradled delicately in her hands. "It was easy to take off. I hope it will be as easy to put back on."

Viktor ordered her to lie down on her front on his workbench as he began welding the part back on. It was quite easy to put back on, as it happened, but he doubted she would be able to do anything to herself that he wasn't able to fix.

"Why do you continue to do this, girl? If you want to know what you are made of, I can tell you."

"I was lying before. I know what is inside me," Orianna answered simply, the sharp ends of her fingers curling around the edge of the workbench idly. It was strange to see a full machine act idly—it seemed wrong, in some way, as if every idly motion was carefully considered before it was performed. "My father seems reluctant to acknowledge that I am not human. I know this."

"So?"

She turned her head so her cheek rested against the workbench. The skirt that was welded around her hips was angled up toward the ceiling, although Viktor didn't want to look closely. Although she was a machine, it seemed perverse to look. "If I make him accept that I am a machine and I know it, perhaps he will take further steps to make me more human. I want to be married and make love. I was reading a novel last night and the whole process seems much less laborious when you think of it in terms of pleasure. I tried to explain the process to Blitzcrank but it seems he finds it tedious."

That was not what Viktor had been expecting to hear, but he supposed it wasn't surprising considering her supposed recent fascination with sex. "Wanting to become human to experience sex," Viktor answered, "is an extremely depraved thing to desire."

"That is not the only reason. But I have been thinking about it a lot lately. It seems to me that the Ball dislikes these thoughts. It seems to process all of it as very... aggressive."

Sometimes it was, but Viktor didn't feel like he needed to tell her that. He didn't know what sorts of filth she spent her time reading, and he didn't especially want to know. He was no longer prone to carnal desires such as those documented in the smutty romance sold on street corners in Zaun, and likely in the pristine bookshops of Piltover where she and her father lived.

Still, he found it hard not to imagine the girl in such a wanton way when _she_ , the original machine, was the one always putting those thoughts back in his mind. It seemed like she was desperately trying to coax him into doing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He was surprised the girl had any capacity for mischief at all.

He made a note to figure out her programming better a little later. It was becoming apparent that she had a much more complex mind than he previously assumed.

Viktor finished welding the part back on quietly. Orianna's gaze drifted to his scepter leaning against the wall. He didn't give that too much weight; when he had touched her with it, it seemed that he had enjoyed it. But he didn't have the time to sit around and debauch the girl with what she equated to sexual pleasure.

Even if it _did_ get rid of that tension.

The robotic arm that loomed over his shoulder waved dismissively. "Go away now, girl. There is work to be done and you are in the way. I will not be entertaining you today."

She sat up and turned her key, her gaze moving evenly from the staff to him. "I want to feel the pleasure again."

"No."

The Ball tittered quietly in her silence. The girl was clearly not used to being denied her way, and he wondered if she was on the cusp of throwing a tantrum. But her response to him, a long moment later, was quiet even-tempered: "I would be willing to return the favor, if you would let me. But you still have not told me if you can feel pleasure."

"My answer is still no."

"But why?" she demanded, although her voice maintained its usual evenness. Viktor wasn't convinced she could produce much more.

"Do not question me, girl."

Viktor didn't have the patience or the time to deal with an insolent charge like Orianna. But the longer she pushed him, the tenser he became. He found himself strangely... desiring that she would continue to defy him so that he would have a reason to put her in her place and relieve that tension the way he nearly had a week ago. But he didn't know if the Ball would allow him to touch her, especially if it was... _aggressive_.

The girl seemed to have a similar line of thought. Orianna looked to the Ball, which clinked and whirred angrily. She pointed away and the Ball floated for the door, separating from its ward, and disappearing out of sight. It was only when her protector was gone that she set him off: "I demand it."

"If you are so desperate for it," Viktor responded, voice dangerously quiet, "I will appease you until you tire of it, disrespectful girl."

He pushed her face-down back onto the table and she didn't protest. Although he felt strangely like he was being played by the mechanical girl, he bound her metal limbs to the legs of the workbench with wire and took hold of the scepter, propping it up so that the sparking end of it rested between her legs. He didn't believe that it mattered _where_ exactly the electrical impulses entered her, but looking down at the work he had done to the now-constantly whimpering girl, he could feel the tension resolving itself inside him and decided he had made an alright choice.

"Thank you," she managed to say between the vocal disruptions that arose as a result of the electricity shooting through her body. With the girl just where he wanted her, he got back to work, only occasionally sparing a glance toward her.

It was easy enough to monitor her when she was nearly constantly vocal, but difficult to ignore her. It was increasingly difficult to focus on his work and he found the hand that had not been replaced by robotic parts yet making fumbly, stupid mistakes whenever he thought about the machine behind who was whimpering with pleasure. He tried to ignore it, but with the tension gone he found himself... shaky. Shakier than he ever was. And he worked and worked for a few hours, ignoring the stupid mistakes. They would go away.

He knew the girl was the source of the problem—whatever that problem _was_ —and he knew that the wise thing to do would be to get rid of her. But he didn't want to do that. He was stronger than she was, and he wasn't going to purge himself of her in order to do good work.

Viktor turned to look at her. He was the one that had chosen to put the staff between her legs, of all the places, and he wondered if she was smart enough a creature to be subject to classical conditioning. If she associated that part of her body with those emotions of pleasure...

The problem he was having began to make sense: for the first time in years, since he had begun to replace parts of his body and mind with more efficient machines, he had become aroused.

She spoke just as the realization hit him. "I—think I have—had enough now."

"Is that so?"

She didn't have an answer, only looking up at him desperately. He felt oddly powerful, standing over her. Maybe she didn't understand the humiliation of the position she was in. He was disappointed that of all the human emotions she understood and believed she experienced, shame did not appear to be one of them. Would that have made things better or worse for him? More importantly, what _was_ better or worse for him?

Arousal was a very, _very_ human trait that he had not previously been aware that he was still able to experience. And since it was a weak human trait, he had to purge it. His more intimate area was still human, but he had not realized that his mind was still capable of finding something so... appealing.

That was what he told himself when he clipped the wire binding only one of her arms, and then took off the glove covering his human hand so he could make sure her surface wouldn't shock him. When he found that the electrical impulses didn't quite make it to her hand, he was pleased and decided she was fit to be used as a means to an end.

"Are—you—going to let me go?"

"Soon. But if you are curious about me, I will show you. You do not tell any of this to anyone, do you understand? Not to your father. Not to Blitzcrank."

"I understand."

He undid his pants and found that he was unfamiliarly _rigid_ , and it had been so long it nearly felt foreign. Viktor took her hand and very carefully wrapped her fingers around the base of him. He got her started moving up and down on him, and she found a rhythm very quickly without his assistance. He had forgotten just how purely _good_ pleasure felt. He reached back so he could grab the staff that was perched between her legs so he could be in control of it.

She spoke right when he moved the scepter away from her, stopping the noises. "This is how you feel pleasure, then? Through here?"

"Yes."

"I see," she responded with simple fascination. "Is it better if I go faster?"

Viktor pressed the end of the scepter to her again, and out came the familiar robotic whimpers he had grown accustomed to hearing. "Yes. Go faster."

She obliged him, watching him as she stroked purposefully. Her hand was cold but quick, and she didn't ever seem to tire. Her strokes were full and surprisingly powerful. Unsurprisingly, Viktor felt chagrined when he realized that this was not something he could allow himself to grow accustomed to. The girl was a means to an end. Nothing more.

"This is—quite fun."

Viktor did not agree. "Fun" was not the word for it. It was relief; little more. He was building toward a climax, and after that happened, he planned on telling the girl to leave him be, to keep herself in one piece until her father came to retrieve her.

When he could feel that he was about to finish, he felt as though it might be wise to tell the girl, although ultimately he decided against it (he didn't know what he could possibly say). He removed the scepter from her when he finally finished, leaving a very unfortunately human mess all along the metal surface of her face.

Feeling embarrassingly human for giving in to such a temptation he thought he had long given up, he cleaned himself up and cut the rest of her limbs free, turning to work again. "Go clean yourself off, girl, and leave me be. Keep yourself in one piece and stay quiet."

"I very much enjoyed that," she stated simply, turning her key again as she found an oily rag to wipe against her face. "I wish you would have let me do it sooner. I would have been pleased to do so." The Ball returned to her, zooming in to greet its owner. Its eye watched him skeptically as she as made her way out of the room. "My father will be pleased to hear that you have cured me of my condition. Perhaps he might bring me back, should I have any other ailments."

* * *

 **A/N:** Wtf did I just write. This started out in my head as a very cute drabble and it ended up being kind of... 50 shades of steel and pretty stupid. Anyway, I don't tend to write anything legitimately smutty very often at all but I couldn't figure out how to translate it to anything cute since Viktor is such an asshole. Enjoy!


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